


Compromising

by Izvin



Category: Kolekcia Bohatier | Bogatyr Series - Juraj Červenák, Slavic Mythology & Folklore
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Ambition, Arguing, Blood, Corruption, Deal with a Devil, Friendship, Gen, Harm to Children, I am a forgetful idiot and this is canon divergence actually, Inhuman, Internal Conflict, Koschei The Deathless (Slavic Mythology & Folklore) - Freeform, Magic, Manipulation, Moral Dilemmas, Negotiations, Night, Secrets, Telepathy, Vampirism, War, Well - Freeform, mentions of killing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-20
Updated: 2020-01-20
Packaged: 2021-02-19 00:20:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,869
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22335508
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Izvin/pseuds/Izvin
Summary: Imagine you are young, hotblooded, enterprising and in the middle of difficult conquest. Imagine a friend you presumed tragically killed returns, only to find out he is not who he used to be and you have to be wary of him. Imagine you are all the same beginning to be glad, he is there with his increased magical and combat powers and you rely on him more and more. Imagine it is public knowledge there is something dark and dangerous at play, but no one knows what exactly. Imagine you find out.





	Compromising

**Author's Note:**

> Well, I wrote this some considerable time after reading novels. I went browsing through certain passages and found out, Svjatoslav during reunion actually agrees to not investigate Koščej's nightly trips as long as Koščej stays loyal and that his later demands must be "reasonable", so there is literary no reason for this scene to play out.  
> Consider it an AU, guys. Consider it an AU.  
> For canon compliant fic he would have to find out by accident or just put two and two together half involuntarily. That would make for lovely confrontation and reasoning behind tolerance too, but it would clearly look different.  
> I still like this version too much to delete it, so here we go, have as much fun reading it as I had writing it.

Sky was slowly lighting up, stars turning invisible, though he could still see them, with enough focus able to gaze past azure hue even when sun was already up. He was sneaking towards well, around which they broke camp previous night, to wash away evidence of his feeding. This part of country was avaricious with its water sources, there was no other nearby. Pesky situation, a heightened risk, but nothing he would see as a reason for concern. Especially not now, still feeling a bit giddy with fresh echo of vibrant red and blue. He knew how to avoid being spotted. Walk past sleeping men like a ghost while absorbing that rush inside.

Then he notices, that the pail he's seen before is missing. He frowns and looks the well over.

"Searching for this?"

Something washes over him and unhurriedly he turns to his right to see the speaker holding the tool in question up as he emerges from shadow of thick bushes. Gold glimmers in pre-dawn light.

"Svjatoslav."

He drawls leaning his head to side.

"Koščej."

Returns Kievan prince and blue of his eyes is just as vibrant.

"Did you waste good night's sleep just for this?"

He simpers.

"I wouldn't be able to sleep anyway."

He retorts not joining Koščej's blithe attitude. Mage allows more sharpness to enter his gaze.

"Troublesome. Perhaps I could help you with it, just as you used to, brother."

Svjat nods while walking closer, unhurriedly as well.

"My thoughts exactly, brother."

He stops at arm's length from him, the pail held just outside Koščej's reach as if it was some enticement.

"You can start with telling me, and no obscuring or lies, where you spent the night."

Koščej presses his lips together.

"Didn't I tell you, that as a prince and leader of this campaign you don't need to worry yourself with it?"

"Aye. I think that for those exact reasons I actually must."

He looks him over, eyes giving away nothing, then returns to his face with expectant expression. Koščej bears it unflinchingly and with silence. Prince nods.

"I'll start then. I saw not only where you went this night, but also previous one and the one before. I've sent scouts back there, they've returned recently, and I visited the last one myself, when you were away, busy with the task, I gave you."

Koščej recalls that little detour after fleeing armed rogues leaving behind area scraped clean and filled with traps. It was fun. He himself suggested he should deal with them and Svjatoslav agreed and let him go.

"In both locations there were bodies drained of blood with almost none spilt around, but very specific wounds. And those expressions on their faces, Koščej, the echo that crystalized in their eyes..."

It is... An experience to take in the memory, see the corpses later and through other eyes, coloured by that other's reaction. He always liked Svjat's reactions. When observing them from the outside before and even more now, when he could dive into them, tentatively push at those currents, drink...

"I've done enough fighting and animal offerings to know, how differently does human blood smell."

Prince closes his eyes and scents the air now. When he opens them again, they stab.

"And you reek of fresh one. _Zmej_."

Flashes of stories and reports, about dragon beasts and worshippers both. Koščej lowers and softens his voice, rough instead of cutting.

"It was to be considerate."

"Fuck that, Koščej, fuck that..."

He grits out with voice bordering on snarling, composure cracking only now.

"You nightly kill innocent non-combatants to suck life out of them. You kill children. That look in their eyes..."

Svjatoslav cannot tell it is result of soul snatched from its natural course, forever lost within dragon mage, its self decomposed into fuel. But he can sense there is something more upsetting at play here than just vampirism.

"And all that blood is on my hands, because I let you enter my service."

_After you threw away your right to claim you hadn't known, sure._ Koščej tries to reason away its significance with cavalier smirk.

"A mere drop that gets lost in the river of blood spilt during battles. Though my part in that is still larger than others. But that's not something to complain about, is it?"

Svjatoslav's eyes glint and pierce deeper (they could get through scales, they could...).

"Is that why you take such care to keep it secret? You know it amounts to more."

Koščej recalls through haze of previous mortality Volch's distress upon entering butchering cave, from which Ilja saved Aljoša. The idea of being food like piece of chicken was upsetting for people in itself. Hard to tell if more as in-species betrayal or sign of someone being different and unbelonging and opposed. Having his magic slowly torn away and thoughts trampled upon in Kokšaga was fairly revolting too. Death in occasional and more even-levelled combat clearly less harrowing prospect. The idea that someone would claim also such a treasure as soul must be in general even more difficult to swallow. Fair enough. But it is time for Koščej to stab too.

"Is that why you confront me about it all alone instead of with rest of družina? Get to the point, Svjat."

Prince blinks, than looks away as if that could shroud his battle with reluctance. Upon slow exhale he gathers his invisible princely armour (Koščej would sometimes like to think it is similar to scales) and looks at him with firmness.

"A proposition. I'll keep your secret. In exchange for protecting you from general wrath and allowing you to benefit in my service, I shall make few changes in our earlier deal. Once a day comes, when you will ask me to reward you, I'll have the right to refuse, if I will disapprove of it and make you choose something else. You will get your due, you will, but there shall be limits. I must have means to protect also others from you."

_Ah, varangian roots showing._

"Hard bargain it is you're driving. Why should I comply?"

Prince frowns and ire enters his voice again.

"Is it not benevolent enough?"

Koščej scoffs at the intimidating accusation of ungratefulness.

"If you want to call me offender, don't call your greed benevolence."

"Mercy is greed to you? I could and should punish your crimes.”

He says pointing his index finger at mage.

“For example with exile. You expect reward for your work, but honestly, being allowed to participate is your reward too. You are reaping each day, because you love to flex. And if I cast you out of družina and circle of commanders on grounds of being convicted monster, they'd support it, might not even wait for my order."

"And what prevented you from doing so already, gosudar?"

"It would result in you running around unsupervised, unfettered, bored and even more prickly than usually. Still my responsibility..."

"Execution would solve that."

Koščej chirps in. Wolf prince nods without hint of unease.

"I considered that too. Just like with Bragi's men who pillaged Bulgarian countryside. Fancy trial and all that."

Koščej notices Svjat fleetingly considered also hit squad to take him down like a rabid dog or a wolf that invaded sheepfold, no warning or officialities. Well, he would like to see them try.

"Something told me, you wouldn't comply. How many would fall? More or less, than those you devour? And they are mine, they are mine..."

The sentiment is sincere and strong, always was and campaign didn’t make it wane. It is familiar and surprisingly sore for mage. But Koščej is not one to surrender to it or leave other matters be.

"How caring... You are inclined to think it'd be still less than on battlefield. But for no gain. And you'd lose your best warrior, better than them all, too. There, greed."

His retort acerbic. Svjatoslav shakes his head.

"Whatever. The thing is, it is loss that I consider avoidable. Last resort, one could say.”

He makes a step forward and determination drips from each of his words.

“I'll do it, if I have to. I'll personally end your life, Koščej, should situation call for it."

_Where else did I hear such words..._ Now they sound like they might be a threat, or a last respect paid, or means to clean one's name and conscience, or means to pay for mistake, or different need, or all of it tangled together. Storm in the wolf eyes. Koščej waits for him to continue while feeling for the twisting drives within him. He doesn’t want to influence them with his magic yet.

"But I don't want to. Truth is, for all the outrage and all the worry I don't want to. More than I don't want your atrocities to continue. So please, don't give me a reason to do so. It is in your interests too."

He frowns.

"And thus you insist on vetoing my requests. Order me around not only in what I do for you, but also in what I am to desire. So little faith you have in my aims."

He finishes in wistful tone. Svjat is unmoved, or more like moved towards confrontation.

"After all I've seen? Of course I do. And you are not exactly inspiring it with this reluctance either."

"Oh, I am just suspicious myself. Of being robbed by this varangian prince."

He hisses, teasing rather than hostile. Volch used to throw varangian barb at Svjatoslav from time to time too and it worked wonders on the man dreaming of unified Kievan greatness. The resultant exasperation now is a bit defensive.

"Your request was too indefinite, just as your promises."

Koščej lifts one of his eyebrows sceptically.

"So now your limits shall be instead? How is that more righteous?"

Svjatoslav’s certainty is unshaken as he crosses his arms on his chest.

"Because I am not the one devouring innocent people."

"True, you are devouring whole armies, cities and realms."

"They shall thrive afterwards, be elevated."

Koščej thinks that turning blood and souls into arcane power is fairly elevating too, but remarks on something else.

"Like Chazaran?"

City masacred, bled empty of valuables and ruined so badly, it had to be burnt down and thus erased. For a moment Svjat looks like he might punch him, but then lowers the fist again.

"It got out of hand and won't repeat. Can you say the same?"

He steps closer, so close that some of the blood covering his chest and hands, soaking his cloak might get smeared on Svjatoslav's clothes and he likes the possibility.

"I am not sure if you yourself can. This is the price of power, steps of ascension."

He says looking deep into those blue eyes. And though receptive and captivated, they resist.

"There is more to power than getting it. Wielding it well enough to keep it."

"Mmm... There is some frailty."

Unlike in his. But he'll fix that too, with enough time.

He steps back.

"Have your altered deal then. You can withhold from me my reward in favour of other, more acceptable one."

Koščej shall make sure Svjatoslav will not think he has to, when he'll finally ask for it.


End file.
